Devine Punishment
by Words of Heresy
Summary: Post season 5. God releases his sons from the pit and places them on earth as men. He orders the Winchesters to teach them hunting so they might learn through them how to be brothers. Mishaps insure. A collection of related one-shots. Non-cannon. SLASH in some one shots so read my A/N's. Link to my other story, still in the works :)
1. Who's Driving?

"Now that we have an entourage, gonna be kinda hard to stay off the radar."

"We can get a mini van?" Dean glared at his brother.

"I'm not trading in _'baby'_ Sam, you hear me?"

"Listen boys, as lovely as this is, you can have your _wincest _love spat another time, right now we have to resolve this issue. I think we should split up."

"We can't split up Meg," Sam ran his hand through his hair in aggravation, "we promised god we'd keep them safe."

"Hard to do when we're not around," Dean finished.

"I meant we split in to two cars, jeez am I the only one with a brain here fellas or do you share one between your selves and fail to inform me when you switch places."

"Haha you're a riot," Dean looked over to his baby where all three angels were staring vacantly at them through the glass.

"Angels can't drive, so it'll be you and the angels and me and Sammy.

"Like Hell!" Meg stepped threateningly towards the older Winchester.

"I'm sure, you'll know best," Dean smirked, and walked towards the caravan park where a red 1967 Mustang was waiting, like she was made for this.

"Wait!"

"No can do."

"I rather go on my own than drive three angels with attitude Winchester; so here me out or start looking for that party bus."

Sighing, Dean spun back to face a very pissed off demon bitch. Déjà vu times a hundred.

"Ok, what do you sugg…"

"One. One angel."

"No freaking wa… wait. Yeah, all right, one angel. It's a deal." He walked back to stand next to her, "I know how strongly you demon's feel about these things," and pecked her on the lips.

Meg regarded him with suspicion; all the while he broke into the car and got the engine running. Walking over to the driver side, he let her take his place behind the wheel.

"Ok than," Dean announced cheerfully, "Gabriel come on out here you're driving with Meg."

Before she could so much as make one horrified protest, Gabriel had already jogged over to the car. Popping himself into the passenger seat, he held his cherry pop between his lips while fingering through an old box of tapes sitting on the dashboard.

"Heya Meg. You like Asia. I _loooove_ Asia!"


	2. Diner Drag

A/N Right so I forgot to do this last one-shot but obviously this is non-con. Meg is travelling with the boys for her own protection, Castiel is fighting Raphael in Haven and the Winchesters have been ordered by god, (who for the purposes of these stories is Chuck) to look after his human sons namely Michael, Lucifer and Gabriel and teach them humility, compassion and how to be brothers yadda yadda yadda. I hope that now these shots might make more sense.

Cherri-o

WOH

* * *

"Michael just…eat," Sam sighed in exasperation when the ex-angel picked up the plate for the second time to give the hamburger another wary sniff.

"I will not, '_just eat'_ Sam, when I don't know what _'it'_ is."

"Meat, onions, tomatoes, salad. You know all the goodies," the elder Winchester supplied, drizzling across the table as he struggled to talk around a mouthful of bacon.

"Seriously brother; your tedious whining is getting on my nerves," Lucifer frowned, popping another fry into his mouth.

"Lucifer if you don't shut up, so help me father, I will…"

"Don't you agree Sam?" Lucifer turned his head forward and smiled leisurely at his would be vessel. "Michael is such a Drag Queen."

Dean chocked on his soda, spraying the table and most of Michael's plate.

"Wh…what was that?" he chocked out through his coughing.

"I said Michael is a Drag Queen, like the personified epitome of boredom."

"Eh Lucifer," more than a week later and Sam still found himself at loss how best to address the devil. "Drag Queen has a different meaning here…on earth," he added somewhat lamely when Lucifer still regarded him with a blank stare.

"Like what…"

Sam shot Dean a pleading look.

"You're on your own here Sammy," Dean raised both hands above his head and got up. "I'm gonna head over to Wall-Mart's, see if Gabriel and Meg need a hand with the shopping. Need anything?"

"Dean," the younger Winchester begged.

"I'll take that as a no. See ya outside in 20 minutes." Dean paused by the door to throw over his shoulder. "Make sure Drag Queen gets a meal in him before we set of."

"Damn it."

Lucifer gave a noisy slurp of his strawberry milkshake.

"Sooo…definition please."

Running a hand through his hair, Sam quickly flagged down a waitress to buy more time.

"Another hamburger please," he spoke quickly, desperately trying to will her to stick around. She shot him a marginally irate look. The waitress of course had her own problems. 'Bet', Sam couldn't help thinking, 'none of witch involve educating ancient celestials on the basics of urban slang'.

"Saammmyy, we're waaiiiitiiing…"

Even Michael was doing that curious head tilting thing angels did, while occasionally shooting his brother suspicious glances.

"Tell me Sam what blasphemy has my brother spoken against me."

"OohKayy well ah when people refer to someone as a drag queen what they really mean is a…oh look foods here!" Almost hyperventilating with relief, Sam grabbed at the opportunity when the waitress replaced Michael's plate, to start not so subtly flirting with her.

"_Sooo_…Rachel," he gave her a once over Dean would be proud of, "must be nice working in a dinner. Get to meet new people…"

She shot him an unimpressed look and walked away. Fuck. One time he needed Dean.

"I grow tiered of this Sam…tell me _noooowww_!" the devil demanded petulantly and narrowed his eyes in annoyance. Jerking his legs under the table like a child having a tantrum, he landed a hard kick on the other man's shin. Sam swore.

"Ok you know what fine! A drag queen is a transvestite. A man who likes to wear woman's clothe. Happy?!" He aimed his best bitch face at the devil, simultaneous rubbing his sore knee.

Michael colored in anger.

"Lucifer did you just refer to me as a homosexual?" he hissed quietly, seething in anger.

"Not intentionally, obviously I didn't know the modern definition anymore than you did until just now."

Lucifer's logic must have made sense to Michael because he calmed enough to start on his burger. Pulling it apart and lining up the filling on his plate. The weak, human body demanding sustenance above all else, even just retribution. Sam looked curiously between the two brothers.

"So why did you call him a queen instead of king?"

Lu scoffed and smirked around his milkshake straw.

"Well because he's a bitch, _duh_."

Castiel popped into existence just as Michael was finishing his last slice of tomato, leaving only the patty untouched; all the while glaring at Lucifer like he was elephant droppings. Interesting. Sam thought that he and Michael might just get along after all.

"Hello Sam." Cast dropped his head back against the plush seating. "Hello brothers."

"Hello Castiel. We were just discussing the definition of the term Drag Queen."

"Ah," Cas smiled in understanding, "like the personified epitome of boredom."

Sam groaned and quickly dashed for the register to pay the bill.


	3. Crobby Xmas Special

A/N Crobby Xmas Special ;) SLASH ahead but only fluff

* * *

The fire place dances merrily in the twilight casting playful shadows on the walls. Who knew Bobby Singer had a fire place? He certainly didn't, or maybe he did but its been so damn long since it was last used, he simply forgot where it was. Crowley took it upon himself to find the obligatory Christmas memoir. After using some demon mojo to blow out a truck full of debris from the dirty hearth, Crowley threw in a couple of longs and lit a fire with the click of his fingers. Shifting from side to side in pretence of setting the logs just right, he worked on hypnotising Bobby with the sway of his hips. He made these pants himself, making them fit but a little bit tighter in all the right places.

"Tis' the season to be jolly…"Crowley raised a suggestive eyebrow.

"Not drunk enough to get that jolly, ya idjit," as if to emphasize that statement or simply steel his nerves, Bobby took a generous swallow from his tumbler. Oh yes he had '_tumblers_' now. Crowley's doing. Looking around the living room one could hardly tell anymore what else was the demons _doing_ and what had been there all along.

"Don't be like that darling," Crowley swaggered over to the reclining man. "We only have the rest of this night to '_make merry_' before the boys arrive with the angels tomorrow morning." He offered his hand and waited on empty for a good minute before sighing and grabbing the unenthusiastic appendage of the armrest. "Dance with me Robert."

"Go to hell."

"Been already. Party's in full swing."

"So why are you here?"

"Oh darling, a year of pussyfooting around you and this is the return I get on my investment?"

"Shoulda read the investor's check ya idjit. I. Don't. Dance!"

Within a blink of an eye Crowley had pulled Bobby from the seat and wrapped one arm around his waist, pressing a noticeable erection against the dimple in the hip.

"Come one mate, up yah get. Up I get," he gave a quick thrust against the other man. Leaning in he whispered against one stubbled cheek. "And you remember how much fun we have when we're up together, don't you love?"

Bobby shivered but leaned into the demon burying his nose in the dark curls. He sucked in the smell of fresh charcoal and heat. Crowley's smell.

"One dance," he groused.

"That's all I ask," Crowley smirked and used his mojo to start the cassette player across the room. The old hi-fi crankily began to play a grainy version of "Baby It's Cold Outside". Crowley started to sway them on the spot. Leaning in to place his head against the hunter's chest, who secretly relished the contact. Not that he'll be caught dead admitting to it, or anything. The track continued the peaceful duet while the two men moved together, completely in sync.

"Gosh your lips look delicious."

Crowley looked up, startled, and lifted his head to study Robert through narrowed eyes.

"Did you just…"

"Waves upon tropical shore."

"Robert?"

"Never such a pleasure before."

Leaning down he pecked the King's lips and continued to sway them. Cheeky wrinkles crinkling the corners of his eyes.

"How can you do this thing to me?"

"There's bound to be talk tomorrow," Crowley caught on.

"Think of my life long sorrow."

"At least there will be plenty implied…"

"If you caught pneumonia and die."

"I really can't stay…"

"Get over that hold out."

"Oh but its cold outside," they let the singers finish for them since they were too busy frenching like teenagers. Bobby could do a mental evaluation, probably did. The rest of the world would see it as it is, a demon seduced a naïve hunter into a blasphemous, homosexual partnership for the safe return of his soul. Only he knew better and for the first time Robert couldn't make himself feel anything else but completely satisfied, right where he was in the arms of his demon. Being stupid and acting love-drunk.

"Oh by the way," he forces himself to tear away from that sinful mouth, "if you so much as mention this to the boys tomorrow, I'll fill your ass with rock salt. We clear?"

"Crystal."

Returning to his place against the hunter's chest, Crowley couldn't help but smile when he felt rough hands slide down his back and cup his arse through his dress pants. He sighed and rubbed his cheek against the soft fabric of the lumber-jack shirt. Of course there was always Gabriel. This moment was too perfect not to be shared.


End file.
